Under My Skin
by thisisreallystupid
Summary: Oh, he's under my skin, just give me something to get rid of him. Songfic to Alexz Johnson's "Skin" non-graphic rape. Warning on the inside


Hey guys. I discovered this song from another fic, and after listening to it, I absolutely fell in love. And while listening to it, I came up with this idea. And after listening to it over 100 times this was created. I realize that this is very dark, morbid and well sad. And I'm sorry if I've offend or bother anyone who's gone through this.

This can be considered AU but it could also be considered a back stage look at Hermione's life since we don't really know much about it. Also Hermione could be considered OOC but there are reasons for that.

**THIS CONTAINS NON-GRAPHIC RAPE, INCEST, AND CHILD ABUSE. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT. I DON'T WANT ANY FLAMES ABOUT WHAT THIS CONTAINS, ESPECIALLY SINCE I WARNED YOU!**

As usual please Read and Review

Disclaimer- I don't own Skin or Harry Potter

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><p>I stood in front of the house unsure of what to do. It used to be a second home to me. But it'd been three years since I last walked out of the door. Taking a deep breath, I hesitated then knocked. It took a few moments but the door was finally opened by a girl a few centimeters shorter than me with chin length, wavy brown hair, multiple ear piercings and a small nose piercing.<p>

Despite the changes, I still recognized my childhood best friend. She had changed a lot, but her sky-blue eyes were the same. I wasn't sure if she recognized me, but her eyes widened as she took in the dark circles under my bloodshot eyes, the bruise covering the right side of my face, along with the bag full of clothes I held limply in my hand. We stood there for several seconds until she finally spoke, "Hermione."

I nodded, and managed a barely audible, "You were right."

_**I drift away to a place**__**  
><strong>__**Another kind of life**__**  
><strong>__**Take away the pain**__**  
><strong>__**I create my paradise**_

Shock showed on her face, but she quickly stepped forward towards me. She gently took my hand and led me inside. "Come on love, let's get you inside."

Once the door was closed, she took me to a stool next to the kitchen island, and forced me to sit down. Letting go of my hand she pulled out a stool and sat next to me. "Now, tell me what the bloody hell he did to you."

I didn't respond, as I looked around at her kitchen, it was so different from the one at my parents' house. Theirs was very open, but it gave off cold, unwelcoming feelings. Where this one was slightly closed off, but gave off a feeling of warmth, and comfort.

As I looked around I couldn't help but remember all the good times I'd experienced here. Everything from baking cookies with Alex and her mom, running in and out during the summer for iced drinks, to sneaking out sweets for the birds because we thought they'd like to have some. I couldn't help a wistful smile at the memories of my past. It didn't seem possible that I had such a good life before the accident.

_**Everything I've held**__**  
><strong>__**Has hit the wall**__**  
><strong>__**What used to be yours**__**  
><strong>__**Isn't yours at all**_

Half way the second semester of second year, father had gotten into a major car accident. He ended up unable to work, and being hospitalized almost until Hogwarts had let out for the summer. Mum had to work twice as much as she used to in order to pay of the medical bills on top of keeping up with regular ones. And with her being gone all the time, it left me alone with him.

It didn't start off that bad, he was just irritable about not being fully mobile yet. And if he was irritated he would curse and yell a lot. I could slightly understand where he was coming from, I'd be angry to if I was immobile because of some drunk driver. Even with his increase of verbal abuse it didn't really start getting bad until he started drinking.

The first time he actually hurt me, it was after I had accidentally broke a glass as I was washing it. He grabbed my wrist and started yelling at me. It wouldn't have been the first time he yelled at me, but that time he kept squeezing my wrist tighter and tighter until I thought it might snap. Finally after several minutes of yelling he let go of my arm, and shoved me into the counter. Then grabbing another beer, he stomped back into the living room.

As soon threw the broken glass away I quietly stepped out of the back door to keep him from hearing me. Then I took off running to my best friend, Alex's. I showed up at her house tears rolling down my face.

_**Falling apart, and all that I'm asking**__**  
><strong>__**Is it a crime, am I overreacting**_

She immediately took me to her room, and sat me on her bed. "Whose arse do I have to kick, Nee?"

I shook my head, as sobs racked my body. Finally I managed to show her my already bruising wrist. When I heard the sharp intake of her breath, my slowing tears started falling even harder.

Alex didn't say anything as she pulled me into her arms and I cried on her shoulder. When I finally got control of my sobs, she pulled away slightly to look me in the eyes. "Hermione, tell me what happened."

My lip began trembling as I continued to look her in the eyes, "My…my d-dad. He-he's sloshed and he…and he…he got m-mad at me."

Her sky-blue eyes flashed in anger before she pulled me into a tight hug, "Nee, you have to tell someone."

_**Oh, he's under my skin**__**  
><strong>__**Just give me something to get rid of him**__**  
><strong>__**I've got a reason now to bury this alive**__**  
><strong>__**Another little white lie**_

I quickly pulled away, I couldn't tell anyone, he would be even angrier if I told someone. Besides, he was going to get better soon, he'd start going back to work, and everything was going to be ok. No, it was best to just keep it to myself. "I-I can't." shaking my head I looked at my lap. I couldn't look my best friend in the eye because she was right, but I couldn't tell. "I can't. It-it was just accident; a freak thing. It won't happen again. It won't. I was just over reacting."

"Stop lying, Hermione! You can't let him do this!" I knew her eyes would be full of confusion, anger, disbelief and concern. But I couldn't face them, if I did… I knew I'd give in.

Instead, I stood up and walked to her bedroom door. Without turning around I softly said, "I have to go Alex."

I heard her stand up, but she didn't come any closer to me. "Hermione…" Her voice sounded so full of despair, like she had no idea of what to do. I wanted so badly to turn around, but I couldn't. I'd made my decision and I was going to stick to it.

Fighting back tears, I left. I walked away from my best friend. The best friend I told everything, even about being a witch. I walked away, and didn't look back.

_**So what you had didn't fit**__**  
><strong>__**Among the pretty things**__**  
><strong>__**Never fear, never fear**__**  
><strong>__**I now know where you've been**_

Roughly grabbing, smacking, and yelling at me became common place for him over the rest of the summer. At least, it was common place when mum wasn't around. If she was at home, he would instead resort to making nasty and rude remarks to and around me.

Towards the end of summer break he and mum began having arguments. She didn't like his drinking, and he complained that she wasn't doing enough to take care of him. He would be so angry after those arguments. Often times if he didn't take it out on me, he would go to the local pub.

If I did anything wrong he'd call me, "Me and that bitch's mistake." and that he wished, "that cock sucker would've just had another miscarriage." And he would punch, hit, and kick me, but he always made sure to do it somewhere it'd be easily hidden. He said that he didn't want to ruin his "reputation".

_**Braids have been un-tied**__**  
><strong>__**As ribbons fall away**__**  
><strong>__**Leave the consequence**__**  
><strong>__**But my tears you'll taste**_

I couldn't wait for the start of school. It didn't seem to come soon enough. But when it did, I was ecstatic, and nothing could bring me down from my happiness induced high. I was attending all the courses I wanted to, I had a new cat courtesy of mum, and most importantly I was away from him. Nothing could bring me down; not the news of Sirius Black's escape, Ron's accusations and anger towards me and Crookshanks, not even the Dementors present on the grounds. Nothing, except a letter I received from him three months into the school year.

It was a brief one paragraph letter. But in it he managed to ridicule my mother and I twelve different times. He said to not come home for Christmas, and to not expect anything from him, as it was bad enough he had to pay for the "absolutely pointless, and ridiculous school" that my mum wanted me to attend. At the end of it, he also guaranteed "severe disciplinary action" if I messed up at all.

After that first letter, he began sending one every three months. They were always demeaning and promised severe beatings if I did anything wrong.

I was becoming so stressed, that even Harry and Ron took notice. But they always blamed it on Malfoy, the Dementors, or even "that time of month". I wasn't going to correct them, because that would include telling them the truth. And even though I wanted to so much, I wasn't about to lay my problems on them, especially since Harry was busy dealing with Sirius Black, and Ron was worried sick about Scabbers.

By the end of first semester, I'd forgotten how many white lies I had told them. And I felt so guilty for it, but I refused to tell them. It wouldn't work to tell them. They needed to stay focused; they didn't need to be worrying about their know-it-all, bookworm of a best friend.

_**Falling apart and all that I question**__**  
><strong>__**Is this a dream or is this my lesson**_

When school let out for third year, he began to beat me with practically anything around the house. That and he kept up with the crippling verbal abuse as well. It got so bad that I'm surprised that mum didn't notice. Then again maybe she did, at least a little bit. But she was at work almost constantly six days a week, and spent Sunday's shopping and visiting family and friends.

I wanted to be angry with her about not noticing the abuse, but I couldn't. In reality it was my own fault it had escalated to that point. I should have ended it at the beginning like Alex told me to, instead of letting it go on. By that point, I couldn't stop it.

He had a crippling control over me that left me curled into a ball shaking. I was a Gryffindor, but when faced with his wrath, I was frozen with fear. What would he do to me? What would he do to mum? Hell, would it even change anything if I told?

All those questions kept me fearful, and quiet. I wasn't going to do anything that could cause a change. Especially when I didn't know what the results were going to be. So I suffered through the summer, praying for the day when the Weasleys picked me up to stay with them for the rest of the summer.

_**Oh, he's under my skin**__**  
><strong>__**Just give me something to get rid of him**__**  
><strong>__**I've got a reason now to bury this alive**__**  
><strong>__**Another little white lie**_

That school year was worse than any of the others. Instead of coming every three months, his letters began coming at three week intervals. Their lengths were increasing as well. Instead of being one paragraph, they increased to sometimes being pages long. And their harshness increased ten-fold.

I would've been able to deal with it, but his weren't the only ones. With the publication of Rita Skeeter's article, I had dozens of hate letters a day. That and even Mrs. Weasley was treating me differently. I was constantly worrying about Harry's safety in the Tri-Wizard tournament. And Ron was being a prat. All of it together was nearly unbearable. The only bright thing in my life was Viktor Krum.

Viktor was everything I could ever want. He was caring and understanding, he was probably the closest to figuring out the truth. But he never found out, at least I didn't think he did. And whatever relationship we had came to a screeching halt when he went back to Bulgaria. We both decided it was best if we weren't together at that point, at least not until we were older. With him gone, the little hope I had gained soon died away.

By the end of the school year, I'd begun hoping, and praying that it was all just one long, horrid nightmare. And that I'd wake up one day to things the way they used to be. But that never happened, and I would just wake up from one nightmare to live in another.

_**I don't believe I'll be alright**__**  
><strong>__**I don't believe I'll be OK**__**  
><strong>__**I don't believe how you've thrown me away**__**  
><strong>__**I do believe you didn't try**__**  
><strong>__**I do blame you for every lie**__**  
><strong>__**When I look in your eyes, I don't see mine**_

When I went home that summer I discovered it was even worse than the one before. Mum was gone even more, and from what I could gather they were on the verge of a divorce. That left me alone with him most days, unless I could sneak way for a few hours. But when I would come back, the beatings waiting for me would be even worse than if I had just stayed.

Half way through break mum had a dental conference she had to go to, leaving me with him for six days. The first two days he simply drank, and beat me for entertainment. The third day he left me to my own devices, preferring to go to the pub for the majority of the day, and coming back to pissed to do anything. It was the fourth day that it finally happened.

Since he'd gone to the pub again, I thought it was going to be a repeat of the day before. Not expecting him to be home until well into the night, I turned the radio on, and began making dinner for myself. I didn't hear him come in because of the blaring music, along with the pouring rain outside. But I did hear it when he forcefully yanked the cord from the wall causing the radio to stop playing.

I turned around quickly, only to face him fiddling with a role of glossy, gray duct tape. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" He didn't yell, but something in his voice made me more wary then usual. Instead of letting me answer, he continued, "Probably increasing my electric bill, and eating my food. Just like that cock sucking whore you call a mother."

Flinching at every word he said, I attempted to back away as he began walking towards me. But I was pinned against the counter, when he leaned in next to my face. "I've been taking care of you long enough; it's time I got repaid." I couldn't help the shudder that ran through my body at feeling his breath on my neck, along with the over powering smell of alcohol that surrounded him.

Before I could react, he yanked me away from the counter, and shoved me to the floor. I wasn't completely sure of what he was going to do until he began to unbuckle his pants and climbed on top of me.

I attempted to scream, to fight him away, but within seconds he had covered my mouth with duct tape, and had ripped away my clothes.

I couldn't think about it. It was too much. Instead I focused on the constant dripping of the rain, and the clock on the far wall of the kitchen. I watched as the little hands ticked away, second by second, minute by minute. After what felt like an eternity I felt him climb off of me. I wanted to know what he was doing, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

I stayed lying on the floor, terrified of what else he might do. Suddenly he grabbed my wrist and roughly yanked me to my feet. Before I even had time to gather my wits he yanked the tape from my mouth and had pulled me to him.

"Look at me." He ordered, breathing into my face.

When I didn't respond he punched me in the face, causing me to fall backwards. I would've fallen had he not yanked me back towards him. Grabbing my chin he forced me to look into his eyes, so similar to my own, yet so different.

His mouth formed into a feral grin, "You have my eyes." I couldn't help but shudder.

_**Oh, he's under my skin**__**  
><strong>__**Just give me something to get rid of him**__**  
><strong>__**I've got a reason now to bury this alive**__**  
><strong>__**Another little white lie**_

He soon shoved me away from him, and went back into the living room to continue drinking. As he left, I couldn't help but stare after him. How could someone do that do their child?

I quietly went back to my room, trying my hardest to stay silent. As soon as I closed, and locked the door, I sank to the floor sobbing. I felt so dirty, and disgusting. The man I was supposed to call my father had stolen my innocence.

I could still feel him on me. His breath, his hands, everything; I wanted nothing more than to scrub him away from me. But I couldn't, I knew I couldn't, not if I wanted to report him. But did I actually want to report him. I did, but I was so shaken up, and confused I didn't know.

But I did know I needed to come up with a plan. Enough was enough, Alex was right all along. I had to tell someone, but I was terrified. What if they didn't believe me, what if they said it was my fault? There were countless questions and fears flying around in my mind, but I wouldn't listen to them. I did last time and look where it got me. So I came to a decision.

_**Oh my permission to sin**__**  
><strong>__**You might have started my reckoning**__**  
><strong>__**I've got a reason now to bury him alive**__**  
><strong>__**Another little white lie**_

I didn't sleep at all that night. I was too afraid that if I slept, he would come to get me. Instead I sat against the door all night, sobbing until I was too exhausted to continue. I was still wearing the ruined clothes from the night before, and I wanted to change them. But I was afraid to leave the door, even though I knew I had to eventually in order to carry out my decision.

After watching the sun rise, and after working up my courage, I decided it was time. Standing shakily, I stiffly walked to my dresser. Stripping my old clothes, I quickly dressed in an old pair of sweat pants, a tee-shirt and a light jacket. Then I quietly unlocked my door, and made my way to the closet where we kept the plastic bags. As soon as I found one, I stuffed the ruined clothes into it, cringing at the noise it made.

Once I was sure I had everything, I silently crept past the couch where he was unconscious to the front door. When the door was firmly shut, I began making my way to her house. I wanted so badly to run, but I was still too sore to do anything more then to walk.

As her house came into view, I breathed a sigh of relief.

….

"Nee," the use of my old nickname brought me back from my reverie.

Shaking my head slightly, I focused back on Alex. I sighed, "To much."

Alex smiled softly, understanding that I was answering her question, "It's going to be ok, sweetheart. He's going to pay, I promise."

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><p>I usually don't put a second authors note, but again I'd like to apologize if I've offended anybody. That wasn't my intention at all.<p>

I'd also like to apologize at my very sad attempt at sounding British. With my luck it probably ended up a bad mix of British and American English :) Also, in case you noticed there was a pattern in the story. It doesn't really have any super deep meaning, but as I was writing I noticed it and decided to run with it :)

And please no flames.


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